This City's Made Us Crazy
by pleasedontstoptherainxx
Summary: "I need to get away from death," he told her, honestly, "lately, when I look at the bodies of these brutally murdered people, I don't feel anything."


**A/N: Okay, so I'm actually pretty nervous to post this one, because it's a little out of my comfort zone (since I know it's AU and would never actually happen on the show), but when I found my Maroon 5 CD and listened to this song again, the idea just came to me and I had to do it. xD Let me know what you think, because I'm not entirely sure how you guys'll feel about this one.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bones or the song lyrics used. Bones belongs to Fox, Hart Hanson, ect. and the song belongs to the incredible band Maroon 5 (they're one of my favorite bands xD)**

This City's Made Us Crazy

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><p>"'<em>This is not goodbye', she said<br>_'_it is just time for me to rest my head.'  
><em>_She does not walk, she runs instead,  
><em>_down these jagged streets and into my bed._

_When I was fumbling through your dresser drawer,  
><em>_forgot what I was looking for  
><em>_Try to guide me in the right direction.  
><em>_Making use of all this time,  
><em>_keeping everything inside,  
><em>_close my eyes and listen to you cry._

_I'm lifting you up,  
><em>_I'm letting you down,  
><em>_I'm dancing 'till dawn,  
><em>_I'm fooling around.  
><em>_I'm not giving up,  
><em>_I'm making your love.  
><em>_This city's made us crazy and we must get out._"

-"Must Get Out" by Maroon 5

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><p>It was the third time this week that their bickering escalated into full blown fighting, and the third time this week that Brennan had her bag packed by the door. Booth looked at the single duffle bag lying in front of the door, as if it was mocking him, and sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He wished he hadn't blurted that out, but she had just made him so angry. They were doing that to each other a lot lately. They would just take subtle low blows at one another until one finally exploded on the other and said something hurtful that they didn't necessarily mean. Sure, they had always bickered, but <em>fighting<em>, actually fighting, was new for them.

Booth was struggling to remember where the shouting and insulting came from to begin with. It started out like any other night. They had dinner together, talked about a case. _Talked about a case_. That damn case was the cause of all of this.

"_It was a perfectly good suspicion," Brennan argued about the already closed case, popping a fork full of Thai food into her mouth after she spoke. _

"_No, Bones, there was nothing suspicious about how upset he was over his wife dying," Booth still couldn't believe they were arguing over this, even after the case was closed, and it was proven that her husband didn't kill her, "he loved her. When you love someone and they die, you grieve for them. Well, normal people do at least."_

"_So now I'm abnormal because I don't curl up into a fetal position and cry when someone I care about dies?" She asked, feeling slightly offended by his 'normal people' comment. _

"_Did I ever say _you_?" He asked._

"_You _meant_ me," she informed him, letting him know that she was not too stupid to see the meaning behind his words, "but, you know what? Maybe I should listen to you about suspects. You probably know how people act after they've killed someone, considering you've done it enough times."_

_Booth nearly winced at the harshness of her words. _

Why did she always have to go there?

"_You know, Bones, I'd appreciate it if you didn't always have to take that road," he murmured, "how about we try to have one conversation without you taking shots at my past."_

"_You took the shot at me first!" She exclaimed, "Your whole 'normal people grieve' comment was very clearly directed towards me, whether you want to admit it or not."_

"_This may come as a surprise to you, but sometimes, just on occasion, I say things that have nothing to do with you. I know you may think that the world revolves around you, but it doesn't, for future reference."_

_Brennan could detect the sarcasm in his voice, which only caused her to grow more annoyed than she already was. _

"_I don't even know who you are," she told him, coldly, "when we initiated a relationship, this is not what I was expecting. Maybe that line between professionalism and romantic involvement was there for a reason. Maybe we should have never crossed it." _

And that was his breaking point. It was always his breaking point. She knew the way she could hurt him the most was saying that she regretted becoming romantically involved with him, and she used it to her advantage every chance she got; or at least that was what it seemed like to him.

"_You don't even know who I am," he scoffed at her words, his voice low, as if the words were just coming casually, "okay, Joy." _

_A hurt expression taking over her features, Brennan pushed her chair out and stood up, going, for the third time in seven days, to pack her bag. _

She and Booth didn't live together, but she kept a duffle bag full of her things at his house. Only one duffle bag. She was hoping that soon they could move to two duffle bags, but it didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. Not when they were fighting like this at least.

_Booth let her go to his bedroom, knowing that he crossed the line with the last comment, and assuming she was just going in there to cool off. But when he saw her emerge a few minutes later, packed bag in hand, he had to mentally roll his eyes._

"_Fine," he spoke loudly enough to make sure that she could hear him, causing her to turn around to face him again, "let's not talk about it. Just run away, Temperance, like you always do when things get too hard."_

_She didn't respond to him, just left the bag at the door while she went to collect her toiletries. And that was how they ended up here. _

When she came back, and shoved her toiletries into the front pocket of her duffle bag, Booth spoke again, only more kindly this time than he had been.

"Leaving?" He asked, the harshness all the way gone by that point, replaced with a half guilty, half disappointed tone.

"Yes," she told him, "I'm going home."

"You don't have to take your things."

"I want to."

Booth wanted to say something to convince her to stay, but couldn't find the words at the moment. Both of them knew this wasn't permanent, and that they'd be back to normal by tomorrow night, but it didn't stop them from getting upset for the time being.

Brennan picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, opening the front door, preparing to leave. She turned to look at him again, seeing that he had his head in his hands, his eyes focused on the floor. She was going to say something, but decided against it, simply turning back around and leaving, closing the door quietly behind her.

Once she was gone, Booth stood up again, making his way back to his bedroom. He opened one of the drawers in his bedroom, lifting up a pile of his shirts, which were neatly folded from when Brennan decided to do their laundry, and finding a small box under them. Flipping the little black box open, he looked at the ring. He was going to propose that night. How did this go from, what was supposed to be, such a romantic night to her leaving him once again? Huffing in frustration, he closed the box, carelessly tossing it onto the night stand before he got into bed, not even bothering to change out of his t-shirt and jeans.

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><p>Brennan closed the front door silently behind her, placing her duffle bag on the floor, right next to the front door. She stepped out of her heels, leaving them next to her bag, before she walked carefully to the bedroom, opening and closing the door silently behind her. As she slid into bed, she couldn't help but to notice that, even when she wasn't there, Booth still slept on his side of the bed, as if he knew she was coming back.<p>

Brennan could feel him shift when she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her forehead to his shoulder as she sighed deeply.

"Bones," he murmured, turning himself around in her arms so they could look at each other, "I thought you needed space?"

Brennan simply shook her head, pressing her lips to his. His hands immediately moved to cup her face, encouraging her lips apart with his own, and she didn't hesitate to comply, allowing their tongues to tangle as the kiss heated up. Their lips only separated briefly so Brennan could tug her partner's shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor, her hands moving to smooth down his stomach after the cloth barrier was out of the way. As if it was second nature to them now, they situated themselves so Booth was over her, his hands mapping out her body as they kissed.

It wasn't long before they were both down to their undergarments, panting between sloppy kisses. When Booth's hands slid down her waist, Brennan grasped his forearm gently, tearing her lips reluctantly from his.

"Wait," she breathed, seeing him look down at her with concern in his eyes, "don't worry, it's not bad," she assured him, with a small laugh, as she reached over to the night stand, "we need a condom."

"Right," he agreed with a small laugh, running the fingers of one hand through her hair, the other staying on her waist.

When her hand touched the night stand, Brennan felt something foreign under it. It was solid, but felt hollow, and, letting her curiosity get the best of her, she picked it up and brought it close to examine it more accurately.

"What's this?" She asked, holding the box out to her partner to show him.

"Nothing," he said, almost a little too quickly, going to take it from her hand.

But he couldn't get it before she was opening it, looking at the sparkling item inside with adoration. But she didn't want to automatically assume it was for her. Maybe it was his mothers, or something. Assuming he bought her a ring would be selfish and idiotic, according to her.

"This must have been expensive," she commented.

Without missing a beat, Booth spoke again.

"I want to marry you."

Brennan's heart fluttered when she heard the words, and she tore her gaze from the piece of jewelry to look into his eyes.

"What?" She asked, completely taken by surprise.

"I want to marry you," he repeated, "maybe not anytime soon, but I figured we could get engaged and then take it from there. You know, get married when we feel like the time is right."

He knew it was a leap, going from one duffle bag to a ring around her finger, and he knew she was probably going to reject him, but he figured it was worth a shot.

"You want to marry me?" She asked.

"Yeah," he told her, honestly, "I do," he paused when he saw that she looked reluctant, "we've been together for a while now, so, I don't know, I just wanted to ask. If you aren't comfortable with it though..."

He left the rest of it open for her to interpret. When she looked down at the ring again, Brennan bit her lip nervously.

"So this would just be...a commitment saying that we will get married eventually?" She asked, not really understanding his motives.

"Yes," he confirmed, "that's exactly what it would be. But, again, if you don't want to, you don't have to. I know how you feel about marriage. You think it's an..." he paused, searching for the words, "'archaic ritual', but you know I'm a marriage kind of guy and..."

He cut himself off when he noticed that she was taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto her finger, admiring it in the moonlight that lit the room.

"So, is that a yes?" He asked, laughing lightly at her very Temperance Brennan way of accepting his unorthodox proposal.

"Were you expecting a different answer?" She asked, with a small smile.

"Kind of."

"Well, you know I'm always full of surprises, Seeley Booth."

Booth smiled brightly, leaning in to kiss her again as she tossed the empty box back onto the night stand.

"You're amazing," he told her, honestly, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"So are you," she touched his cheek, the cool metal of her new engagement ring noticeable on his warm skin, "I love you."

He was taken aback when she said the three words so casually. They'd been together for a few months, but had still yet to say 'I love you'. Booth had considered it a few times, but chose to save himself the embarrassment of getting a 'thank you' in return, as opposed to an 'I love you too'. And now, she was the one putting herself out there, saying it first.

"You do?" He asked.

Brennan nodded in confirmation.

"I love you too, Bones."

And, with that, they kissed again, and proceeded to make love for the first time that week.

* * *

><p>As they lay cuddled up with one another after their lovemaking, Booth knew that something needed to be voiced, something that had been bothering him all week.<p>

"We can't keep fighting like this."

Brennan was a little surprised to hear that, since they had just finished making love, but agreed. They did have to stop fighting, or this would never work.

"I know," she agreed quietly.

"We need to get out of here," he looked at her, seeing confusion take over her features, "not too far, since I still have Parker here, but just...out of D.C.. I need to get away from the FBI. I can't help but feel like," he paused, seeing that she was looking at him sympathetically, "I can't help but feel like working with death for all this time made me just...detach."

"You're not detached," she assured him, her voice a soothing whisper.

"I need to get away from death," he told her, honestly, "lately, when I look at the bodies of these brutally murdered people, I don't feel anything," he took a long pause, lowering his voice in just the slightest bit of shame, "I'm numb, Temperance."

"You care, Booth, I know you do," she kissed his lips softly, "but...if you really feel that way, then resign from the FBI. I won't be angry."

"I know you wouldn't be angry, but that would be selfish of me. I'm not just going to abandon you and stick you with a new partner because I can't deal with working with murder anymore. That wouldn't be fair to you."

"Maybe I'll quit too," she suggested, "I can go back to doing what I really love. When I became an anthropologist, I didn't want to work with murder, but I'm committed to our partnership. So, if _you_ were to quit too, I could go back to doing what I originally wanted without feeling like I was abandoning you. Neither of us would have to feel guilty. We'll be getting out of D.C., like you want to, and doing what's best for us, career wise, at the moment."

Booth was stunned that she actually wanted to do this, but, in reality, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Maybe _both_ of them needed to get away from murder. Maybe leaving the FBI and the Jeffersonian would be what they needed to repair their relationship.

* * *

><p>"Cam," Angela went rushing to her boss after she heard the news from Andrew Hacker, "I just got a call from Andrew Hacker. He tried to call Brennan, but she didn't answer. Were you aware that Booth quit the FBI?" She didn't wait for a response before she continued, "You know Brennan's not a people person. She will not like the idea of having a new partner."<p>

"I don't think we're going to have to worry about that," Cam told her, holding up a white piece of paper.

"What's that?" Angela asked, feeling as if she was out of the loop now.

Cam handed her the paper with a serious expression.

"It's Doctor Brennan's letter of resignation," she told her, "they're both gone."

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><p><strong>Yes, I know it's slightly evil, but I left the ending open, in order to let you all choose your own fate for them. =]<strong>


End file.
